Fonzie is cool because he wears a leather jacket and clicks his fingers to get chicks.
Jim Morrison is cool because he wears (and fills) leather pants like no-one else and died when he was still good-looking.
Tarantino is cool because he makes cool movies with cool people and big guns in them.
Businessmen, no matter how hard they stare at their newspapers and financial reports, are not cool just because they don't pay any attention to the in-flight safety demonstration.
When I'm safely sliding my way down a big yellow slippery-dip, oxygen mask strapped across my dial and lifejacket snugly encasing my torso, I'll be laughing at you.
You, still on the plane.
Trying to find the emergency exit.
With your face on fire.
At least glance up occasionally, you cold, self-absorbed bastards.
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I reckon everyone should acknowledge the safety demo at least once. Even if you're not interested in your own safety, one should spare a thought for the poor bastards giving the demo - although they've done it a thousand times, it's probably still the highlight of any flight that's otherwise filled with serving food, answering complaints and toting chuck bags.
Having said that, if said poor bastards don't do all the above with a bit of common courtesy and a smile (like they all seemed to in the 70s), then screw you and the 737 you flew in on.
In the nicest possible way.
I'm self-absorbed and I fly a lot but I do like to give the hosties a little smile that says I appreciate them, their dull performance art, their leathery brown skin (so cool they're dying) and their vegemite stripes...
Ma ha ha. I guess they, like Mr Cetacean, fly lots. I have to admit that on my recent holiday, by the time I got on my sixth plane (not counting the bogong moths), I was a little, "yeah, whatever" too. But my face didn't catch fire.
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